


A Day Like Any Other Without You

by Syntax



Category: Silent Hill (Video Game Series)
Genre: Gen, I Don't Even Know, Not Beta Read, Pre-Silent Hill 2, mentions of mary sunderland
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 07:05:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14764913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syntax/pseuds/Syntax
Summary: James left his house on a Thursday morning to get some flowers for his wife.





	A Day Like Any Other Without You

**Author's Note:**

> i've been dealing with a ot of stress and depression sapping my energy, as well as a few big projects that i can't post yet.
> 
> but i wanna write more, and branch out to other fandoms i like, so i'm gonna try to do a thing a day while i deal with shit.
> 
> sorry there's some stuff i have that hasn't been updated in forever. i'm well aware of it, and i want to work on those stories again.
> 
> i initially wrote this entirely in the browser, but then i accidentally closed the tab and lost everything so it had to be written again. this hasn't really been edited or looked over because of that. don't be like me folks. always write in a separate document that you can save.

James left his house on a Thursday morning to get some flowers for his wife.

He woke up bright and early that morning, early enough that he initially thought he was heading to work before remembering that his boss had given him the day off.  The whole week off, actually, which struck James as odd considering in the entire time he's known the man, his boss had never quite been so generous.  He'd asked why when the schedules came back and gotten yelled at for his troubles, so at least that was somewhat normal.

With no real rush to be anywhere, James decided to take his time in the shower, starting off cold in order to wake himself up more and then switching to hot so he could soak for a while.  For as long as he felt like soaking, really.  It wasn't like anyone else would be needing the hot water.

A quick toweling off and a quicker shave later found James back in his bedroom, eyeing all the clothes strewn about the floor and wondering how he hand't noticed them when he first got up out of bed.

He tried to remember the last time he did the laundry.  Clothes had never really been James's thing—he mostly did handyman work around the house like his dad had shown him, or taken care of the dishes after he and Mary had dinner.  Mary was the one who did all the cleaning.

James found himself staring at a rumpled polo lying next to his foot, wondering exactly how long it'd been since Mary was last with him.  Too long, he decided.  Much too long.  He headed to his side of the double dressers they'd bought together and rummaged through the drawers in hopes of finding anything serviceable.  He found some shirts, and a few pairs of socks, but no slacks, and no underwear.  Letting out a sigh that was probably more dramatic than necessary, James crouched down on the floor and sifted through the dirty laundry until he found what he needed.

Top to bottom, he told himself.  Before this week was over, he would clean this house from top to bottom.  Starting with the laundry.

It was the least he could do.

Finally dressed, for better or for worse, James headed to the kitchen, which was thankfully in much better shape than the bedroom was.  He'd never done much cooking, and had been doing even less ever since Mary...

Since Mary.

But he knew how to make toast, and he knew how to scramble eggs, and most days that was good enough.  James got a cast iron skillet off a rack on the wall and set it on the stove with some butter and oil, fiddling with an old beat up radio he and Mary got at a garage sale years ago as the skillet heated up.  There was an unusual amount of static coming out of the speakers, but eventually he managed to catch a station playing old radio tunes to keep him company before he headed out.

A radio wasn't quite the same as a conversation, but it was a voice, and James had spent far too many mornings wishing he could hear any voice other than his greet him while he had his breakfast.

He rinsed his dishes as much as he cared to before setting them in the sink for later.  There was starting to be a lot that James was going to do later.  He debated making coffee, knowing damn well that he'd get a headache later if he didn't get his fix, but ultimately decided against it since he was already going into town.  He could pick something up on the way to the flower shop.

He left the radio on as he got his jacket and his keys and headed out to the porch.  It would probably do him some good to come home to some noise for once.  He noticed when he got closer to the driveway that the mail had apparently come already judging by the raised flag, something that struck him as odd considering he wasn't expecting any mail.  Not really wanting to bother with that just yet, he got in his car and added bringing the mail in to his ever-larger list of things to do.

When he got into his car, James crinkled his nose and made a face, making a note to add yet another thing to the list—he couldn't be sure what, but _something_ in the back of the car was starting to smell funky after sitting out in the morning sun for a while.  He struggled to think of what it might be considering he wasn't really the type to leave food in the car.  With his luck, something had crawled in and died there.  Putting his car troubles to the back of his mind, James buckled up and started up the ignition.  A quick check of his mirrors and a wave to his neighbors, and he was off.

Twenty-five minutes of driving and fifty dollars worth of overpriced flowers later, James left the flower shop with a bouquet of very specific orchids in hand.  White Claudias—Mary's favorite, ever since she first saw them on their trip to Silent Hill.  He set the flowers gently on the passenger's seat, debating with himself whether it would be a good idea to buckle them in or not, and ultimately deciding to leave them be.  The last thing he'd want to do is bruise such expensive cargo.

He started his car and headed downtown to the hospital.  He walked in, waved hi to the receptionist, and calmly responded that he didn't need directions when she asked.  This wasn't his first time coming, after all, and it wouldn't be his last.  He just kept going forward, went through the back doors, let himself in through the gates and headed for the new arrivals.

Flowers in hand, James searched for what had to be a good half-hour—but try as he might, he couldn't find Mary's grave.


End file.
